An Explosion Would Ruin The Decor
by Galadriel1010
Summary: Jack and Ianto are on a jamble  noun: a rummage through antiques and bric-a-brac shops for wayward alien artefacts . Schmoop bingo prompt: Cuddling in public.


Jack was crouching down next to one of the many rickety tables when Ianto found him. One eye was open, studying the ornaments scattered on the tabletop, and he waved at Ianto vaguely. "I think I've found it," he informed him, pointing to a brooch with a large green stone set into it.

"Very pretty," Ianto commented dead-pan. "What is it?"

"It's a brooch."

"Oh..." He crouched down next to Jack and joined him looking at it from this level. "What is it really?"

"A lot of things. Mainly a brooch." He flicked a glance at Ianto, who rolled his eyes. "But it has some nifty little add-ons like an emergency teleport, a sonic modulator of some sort, and I think it has a self-destruct as well."

"You think?" Ianto hissed in alarm. "Can't you be any more sure?"

"Not without picking it up." He waved two fingers at it. "And if I pick it up..."

"It might blow your fingers off," Ianto realised.

"And then some," he agreed. Ianto continued studying the (possibly) deadly brooch, and Jack stood up, looking around. "Have you got a containment box on you?"

"Of course." He didn't take his eyes off it, but waved at his satchel. "It's in there."

"How very organised," Jack commented approvingly. He ran his fingers through Ianto's hair distractedly, as if he needed something to do with his hand. "Can you provide a distraction?"

Ianto stood up, carefully so as not to knock the table, and looped one arm around Jack's waist so that he could kiss his cheek and whisper, "Are you going to steal it?"

Jack chuckled and turned Ianto towards him, pressing their chests and cheeks together. "Do you want to explain why I refuse to handle it, or to let anyone else handle it?"

"Fair point." Ianto squeezed Jack and stepped back, kissing his cheek. "You look at shiny things, I'll go and find us a desk."

"Make sure it's..."

"Sturdy, I know." he waved at Jack and headed for the shop clerk who was watching them curiously. "Hi, hello," he smiled cheerily, "I wonder if you could help me. My partner and I are looking for a new desk... well, I say we. He appears to have got distracted by shiny things. We're looking for a period piece..."

The clerk beamed at him and gestured down the aisle. "Certainly, sir. It depends what period you're looking for, of course, but we have a few pieces you could look at."

"Thank you."

Fifteen minutes later, whilst Ianto tried to describe the styling of the snug in his and Jack's new house, a large hand settled onto his waist and Jack interrupted with, "That one looks solid."

Ianto rolled his eyes and smiled tightly at the clerk. "I'm so sorry. He's not quite house-trained yet. Jack, behave."

The clerk laughed nervously, and Jack pouted. "Sorry, but it does. I can't help it if you always assume I'm talking about sex."

"I'm usually right," Ianto pointed out.

"Be that as it may." Jack wrapped one arm tighter around Ianto's waist and held his hand out to the poor girl. "Jack Harkness."

"Abbie, Mr Harkness." She shook it nervously, looking like she expected an electric shock or a snog. "Your partner was trying to decide what period your snug is..."

"Oh, nineteen eighties mock-Victorian," he supplied with a grimace of distaste. "I want to rip the whole lot out and start again."

"Now he tells me," Ianto sighed. "So there's no point getting the desk?"

"Oh, there's absolutely point in getting the desk," Jack disagreed. "We can choose the furniture and decorate to match. It's much easier getting paint and wallpaper to match furniture than the other way around; isn't that right, Abbie?"

"It definitely is," she agreed, warming to the topic now Jack wasn't flirting simply by existing. "Would you be looking for a set of furniture, then?"

Ianto surrendered himself to being steered around the huge warehouse to look at desks, chairs and sofas, conscious of the weight that Jack had slipped into his pocket when he wound his arm around Ianto's waist in that singularly possessive display for Abbie. He let Jack drag him around and offered his opinion on the various combinations and styles of furniture, surprised when he eventually found himself agreeing to a set that included a desk with matching chair and a deep sofa and armchair upholstered in a dark caramel fabric.

When they emerged from the shop, Ianto transferred the containment box into his shopping bag and took Jack's hand. "We're a couple..." he trailed off and refused to meet Jack's eyes.

Jack laughed and tugged on his hand, then looped his arms around Ianto's waist loosely, nuzzling his nose against Ianto's jaw. "We've bought a house together, and you've only just realised? I must be slipping."

"No. No, it's just..." he shut up when Jack kissed him and sighed into it, holding Jack in place with his free hand. Middle of the street, during the lunch hour peak time, with a stolen alien brooch in his shopping bag... not the best time, but who cared, really?


End file.
